Proposal
by Spring Haze
Summary: Goren proposes marriage, again. GE partnership. Complete as it is.


Title: Proposal

Author: Spring Haze

Summary:   Goren proposes marriage, again. G/E partnership.

Disclaimer: LO: CI, Goren, and Eames are not owned by me; they are instead likely owned by Dick Wolf, his production company, NBC, Universal Television, and I'm sure various other entities that are also not me.

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Goren proposed marriage, again. It was so… predictable. 

Eames almost rolled her eyes as Goren said, with the most sincere expression, "Let's see… we're… married… middle class, from Brooklyn. Ok?"

Sure. Why the hell not?

Now, 3 hours later, Eames stops to sneer at sticky pink gum on the bottom of her shoe before walking on to find the best look-out seat at the ballpark. Today, they are pretending, not surprisingly, to be a Brooklyn, middle-class, married couple, enjoying a Sunday game, while they scout information from regulars in Section D about a murderous baseball fan.

She feels like they are like 6-year-olds pretending to be undercover. It seems as though every male cop who is teamed with a female cop thinks undercover actually means 'playing house'. And invariably, he will propose marriage.

There is no reason they should be married today. She and Goren aren't even anywhere near each other. She wrinkles her nose as sweat trickles down her face in the 90 degree heat. 

The arena is relatively empty, as the game isn't due to start for another hour and a half. Eames plunks down in a metal stadium chair, and keeps eye out for Goren, whom she last saw chatting with the old guy in Row 26. 

He shortly wanders into sight, headed toward a slightly belligerent drunk guy with the largest beer belly she has ever laid eyes on. She sees Goren try to squeeze his large frame into the miniscule chair he's sharing with the belly, and wonders where the drunk guy's not-so-lucky wife is at. 

Hopefully living off alimony in Bermuda.

She does quick figuring of the number of husbands she has had in her career. Approximately Elizabeth Taylor cubed, she thinks. She's got enough alimony coming to buy this stadium.

To be honest, usually the couple play-acting is obviously practical in a opposite-gender partnership; but sometimes it's just not really needed. It's like men can't conceive of any other role for a woman. Two men could act like drinking buddies, business partners, siblings. Why not a man and a woman?  

She wonders if it's a subtle form of sexism, and she smirks. 

Eames watches Goren have a hearty laugh with the Beer Belly Guy. She notices a large amount of back-slapping going on between the two, in a sort of male-bonding ritual.

She reconsiders. Some things are simply subconscious behaviors.  And in those cases, it's ok to just take note, instead of taking offense.  This string of impromptu marriages in which she finds herself isn't harmful or malicious. But it is interesting.

Goren is now chatting up a young woman wearing a black tube top in the seat in front of him.  He grins and bats his eyes generously at the woman, and Eames smiles to herself.  

He has a different strategy with everyone. Goren is a master of the subconscious. She wonders if he even has one of his own anymore.

And if he doesn't have a subconscious, she can't imagine what this house-playing is motivated by. 

As a rule, he is not complacent in the face of bigoted attitudes from other male cops, when he encounters it. Quite the contrary; he seems genuinely irritated by it. She remembers the time when some upstart, frat-boy detective from another section refused to acknowledge her presence, except to comment to Goren that it 'must be tough keeping your focus on the job with a woman around who looks like that.' She laughs a little now, because she remembers Goren's response:

_'Yeah… it's distracting… you know... Detective Eames ends up spending a lot of her valuable time trying to work around people like you…and I spend a lot of my valuable time having to respond to bullshit like what you just said.'_

Goren-- he isn't into quips. He prefers blunt confrontation to one-liners.

But apparently he is trying out a few lines on Tube-Top Woman. Eames sticks her tongue out at him. Some husband. It took him all of 45 minutes to start philandering.

Eames stands up to cool off a little. Her jeans are getting too hot, and her t-shirt is sticking to her back. Luckily, she thought ahead and made sure she wore a tank top beneath her shirt. She pulls her t-shirt off over her head, and is grateful for the breeze on her skin.

She hears some bellowing and looks around, only to see the Beer-Belly Guy making a lewd gesture at her, and then laughing with his friends. She glares at him, and then looks at Goren who is still sharing a chair with the guy's ample stomach.  

Goren turns his head away from Tube-Top Woman to see what the commotion is. When he sees Eames with t-shirt in hand, he catches her gaze and gives her an apologetic lift of the eyebrows. Beer-Belly Guy nudges him and makes the gesture at her again, apparently pointing out what hilarity Goren missed.

Goren is not laughing. In fact, Eames notes, he looks like he might clock someone.  She prays for him not to blow their cover out of some misplaced sense of chivalry.

He knows better. Instead he starts pointing at the field and creating a distraction. The men's eyes are now off of her, and she gets up to move to another location, a little further away.

She is just getting ready to pick a row, when she feels a clammy hand on her bare shoulder. She immediately knows who it is. 

She whips around and sure enough, Beer Belly Guy is standing there smirking, with a fresh, cold can in his hand.

"Hey, sweetheart. Can I buy you a beer?"

"No."

"Oh, I get it! Hard-to-get." 

"Yeah. Hard-to-get. Now that we've played that game, how about hide and seek? I'll count to 10. You hide."

"Ooooo. I like you."

Eames has had enough of this already. Now she is the one getting ready to blow their cover. She'll have no problem physically with him, but she would rather not resort to that.

She puts on a carefully-practiced expressionless face. "Listen, buddy. Just go sit down. I don't want any trouble."

"Missy, you've already got trouble." He lunges for her waist in attempt to pull her to him. She jumps away just in time. The stench of beer and body odor is overwhelming.

"No, you've got trouble," she replies. She starts to pull her badge out of her back pocket, when Goren suddenly appears.

"Hey. I see you two have met." Goren deliberately towers over Beer Belly Guy, who, despite his girth, is not much taller than her.

The guy looks confused, so Goren says pointedly, "Biff, I'd like you to meet my wife, Alex."

Biff quickly recovers. "Oh, uh… right." He practically runs away.

Goren looks at her with a little smile on his lips, and Eames makes an exasperated face.

"I can't even dress for the weather with out some jackass making a scene." 

"Infuriating, isn't it?"

"More like typical."

She and Goren sit down next to each other. They maintain a contemplative silence for a bit.

It occurs to her that Goren is fully aware of people's assumptions about women and men. He uses it to their advantage. Being 'married' lulls people into complacency, if only because people react in a predictable manner to such a relationship. And being able to predict behavior provides a certain safety net when you are trying to maintain a façade. 

Eventually, Eames stands up. "It's your turn to be the look-out. I'm gonna go mingle."

"Ok." Goren says, looking at her curiously. 

Eames adds, "Oh, and be sure you don't take off your shirt in the middle of a drunken crowd while I'm gone. I won't be close enough to intervene." 

"I don't think I'd get quite the same reaction."

She smirks, and says, "I don't know about that. Your mistress in the tube top would probably appreciate it."

He shakes his head a little. "Not the same. Men think they're entitled to behave that way toward every woman they encounter."

Eames looks at him while she considers this. A smile grows on her face. 

"Not all men," she concludes, as she tosses her balled up t-shirt at him and walks off into the sea of metal chairs.


End file.
